


World on Fire

by Ciel_Leon



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Dark, Alternate Universe - Demons, Amnesia, Cross-Posted on FanFiction.Net, Dark Harry, Dark Magic, Demon Summoning, First War with Voldemort, Kid Rabastan, Kid Rodolphus, M/M, Master of Death, Master of Death Harry, Memory Loss, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Parental Harry, Parseltongue, Post - Deathly Hallows, Post-Hogwarts, Potential Long Fic, Powerful Harry, Smart Harry, Something goes Wrong as usual, Sparadic Updates, Summoning, There is No Good or Evil, Time Skips, Time Travel, Tom Becoming Voldemort
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2015-02-22
Packaged: 2017-12-22 21:41:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 10,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/918338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ciel_Leon/pseuds/Ciel_Leon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being a demon and becoming one are two different things.  Finding a demon inside of him, Harry discovers in death that he has become one.  The Haakai are the most powerful, the most dangerous.  A 21 year old Tom Riddle, who has just began his reign of terror has dabbled into the art of Summoning- unleashing Arturo, the demon of magic, and Harry himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rattle My Bones

**Author's Note:**

> This story is also posted on Fanfiction.net, Harry potter does not belong to me, and the chapter titles are snipets of song lyrics.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone paying attention? Good, I’ll only write this once, the Warnings and Pairings are written for a reason, hit the back button if you don’t like them, don’t complain about them not being in the summary posted in the archive, that’s a summary not a ‘warnings’. The back button exists for a reason. Flamers will be ignored or discredited. This is an AU it contains references to demons. Religion is not mentioned or critiqued, Arturo was picked from a random ‘name generator’ and isn’t the name of an actual demon as far as I know.
> 
> Sorry for the rant, but it had to be said for those who tend to ruin fics for the rest of us. I hope you all enjoy, chapter 2 should be posted shortly.
> 
> Chapter title is from Matt Nathonson's 'Faster'
> 
> Curse these plot bunnies.

_Chapter I – Rattle My Bones_

 

Harry had always believed he had a demon inside of him.

It began with his aunt, who happened to call him 'demon' more often than anything, even 'Heathen', or 'Boy'.

Of course, when he was around nine, he realized several things, the notion of death never scared him, and instead it happened to spark a sliver of excitement.

During the war, Harry rarely felt the sorrow many others did when they lost a loved one, a family member, Harry felt an all-consuming rage.

After the war, Hermione forced Harry to see a shrink, one Dr. Mal-Ross who happened to listen to what Harry's left-over 'family' had to say rather than Harry himself, and thought Harry was suffering from PSTD.

After a rouge Death Eater attempted to assassinate him in his own home, Harry knew for sure that Mal-Ross was incorrect. It was hard to deny his excitement when it came to a battle when Harry could starkly remember the thrill, blood rushing in his ears, senses shrieking, body shifting in a whirlwind of movement, spells flying through the air in beams of light that left scorch marks on walls and furniture alike, until Harry found himself launching through the air at his opponent.

No one ever found the body.

That was why Harry wasn't the least bit surprised when he found a creature lurking within his mind.

It was a shapeless mass of shifting black shadow.

There were no distinguishing features, no eyes or mouth, arms or legs, whatever it was just drifted among Harry's thoughts and memories, twisting slightly to avoid touching the golden streams that interweaved amongst each other despite being anchored to the confines of Harry's mind.

Harry carefully began to weave his own thoughts to encircle the being, capturing it within the molten strands.

Surprising enough, the creature didn't struggle, instead reaching out to gently touch the strands with a wayward limb of smoke.

The feeling was one of dark euphoria- enticing in a way that Harry had never felt before, and it was in that moment that Harry realized what the being was.

Some type of demon.

* * *

Harry retreated into Grimauld Place's library, using Kretcher in order to stay healthy.

He delved into all sorts of books, Dark magic, Black magic, Rituals, Summoning, and even the Mystics- a branch of magic dead and forbidden for so long it was only legend despite the knowledge of otherworldly beings it contained.

It was in a thick tome that was falling apart due to age despite the many charms laced around its delicate frame that Harry found the scant description of the creature roaming within the depths of his mind.

It was called a Haakai, the most powerful of all types of demons.

While shocking, Harry didn't find the knowledge of his prisoner horrifying.

To Harry, the creature just _was._

It existed, yet wasn't doing any harm despite its nature and unconventional living arrangements.

Regardless of the whole situation, Harry found himself wondering if the demons presence was what kept him alive in the first place.

Something told him he had hit the nail on the head.

The Haakai never interacted with Harry, even after the wizard released it from the threads of his mind and let it continue to roam, in fact, the last time Harry had seen the demon, it was mending the torn strands of thought that had remained damaged after Snapes Legilimancy 'lessons' from Harry's fifth year at Hogwarts.

So Harry let the creature be, it was doing more good than harm despite its normal nature.

It would be when he was dying that Harry would realize the true nature of the Haakai's existence and purpose.

* * *

Harry didn't die peacefully.

He didn't even die heroically.

Harry James Potter, age 26, single, wizard, 'Master of Death', 'The-Boy-Who-Lived', and 'The-Man-Who-Won', was kidnapped and then accidently murdered by a group unknown assailants.

The details of his death weren't important to Harry, he didn't even mind when he found himself back at King's Cross.

No, what he had a problem was finding that he wasn't human.

Not in the physical sense at least, in the moral sense- well okay, some of his morals were slightly twisted and some had dropped off his radar completely.

What could he say? He was as human as anyone else.

Not so much anymore but that was beside the point.

After what seemed like hours, Harry's view of King's Cross began to blur and warp, almost as though it was being sucked into a black hole, leaving Harry in an everlasting darkness that his wraith-like form melded into.

There was nothing but darkness, no sound, nothing to feel or taste let alone see and time once again took over.

At first Harry attempted to keep track of time, counting seconds then minutes, only reaching what was around three hours before losing count and patience.

He then attempted to walk through the wall of black surrounding him, tried to find some light- a way out.

All to no avail.

Thoughts began to flutter through his mind, some clear, others not. Sometimes Harry thought he knew where the stray thoughts came from other time, he knew he had no recollection.

' _Living in a cage only makes an animal-_ '

' _A never-ending darkness-'_

' _The abyss-'_

' _Madness lives there-_ '

' _Azkaban-_ '

' _Hell on Earth_ '

' _Demon-_ '

' _What is Hell?-_ '

' _Lost-_ '

' _It's all here, in your head-_ '

' _He himself does not become a monster-_ '

In the depth of the darkness, he became nameless, without purpose and with scant memories of who he once was, feeling only a burning desire to be _free._

Then, suddenly, He wasn't within the darkness anymore.

 


	2. Whispers in the Dark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arturo! No! Your not supposed to do that yet! Hey!
> 
> Oh… umm… this is embarrassing… Anyways! Here’s number two! Reviews are always welcomed and feedback enjoyed! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Chapter title is from Skillet's 'Whispers in the Dark'

_Chapter II – Whispers in the Dark_

He could see flickering candle flames, white writing on the floor, a crouched figure with only a head of dark hair visible-

Oh but he could feel it- the _magic-_ the air _sang_ with it, flowing and shifting eagerly yet protectively around the prone form of the human.

He shifted slightly, unknowingly causing the guttering of the candles and the slight menacing breeze that flooded the room.

He kept his eyes locked upon the kneeling human, curiously anticipating some form of movement, and it was only a moment more before the human tilted its face upwards to peer at him.

Eager bright red eyes set into pale skin that added to the beauty of the high cheek bones and strong jaw.

The smirk the hid within the right corner of the humans lips ruined any speck of innocence that might have been present.

" _Arturo._ "

He shifted slightly once more.

Was that his name? Or just what the human planned on calling him? Perhaps it didn't matter.

_Arturo_ reached down to tangle his fingers into the humans hair, and for the first time since before the darkness, Arturo breathed- it was a rattling sound, quiet and deep, dark.

Those red eyes gazed in wonder before the human reached forward and tentatively trailed his fingers through the darkness that coalesced into Arturos' form.

The mortal shivered in what seemed to be pleasure, eyes fluttering slightly but refusing to close before the man regained control of himself and dropped his arm back to his side.

Arturo cocked his head slightly, continuing to gaze at the human as it rose from the cobblestone floor, its black robes brushing the ground slightly even as the human looked into the mass of black shadow- as if to stare Arturo in the eyes.

"Come."

That was all he said, and Arturo was both thankful, and curious enough to do as he was ordered.

* * *

Darkness.

He had known darkness since a young age, being left in a room without light or company was at first terrifying but over time, the dark was more comfortable then the light.

The sunlight tended to hurt his eyes and burn his skin- artificial light was only slightly better, he could adjust to it despite the initial flare to his retinas.

Candle light was perhaps the best, Tom realized, it left enough light to see and work by, it was easily snuffed out and constantly surrounded by the darkness the 21 year old enjoyed.

Tom had loved darkness for decades now, enjoyed the presence of dark magic for over nine years and now had dabbled in the art of Summoning, one step further than the dreaded black magic feared even by his followers.

His followers.

Pure of blood, sharp of mind, yet weak when it came to the forbidden and forgotten.

Even Abraxas had shied away from the black magic text he had discovered resting upon Tom's desk when he had returned from his mission.

Distantly, Tom wondered if his choice of Summoning was too…advanced.

Arturo was the demon of magic itself, a wielder, controller, and manipulator of magic in its purist, most dangerous and deadly form.

The demon was one of the forgotten beings of the Wizarding World, any mention of his name was blacked out in most books that were forbidden if the text had survived the Book Burning of 1938.*

Tom had been lucky to come across one of the few surviving texts in which the spell that had blocked the reader from seeing the demons' name had faded into near non-existence, making it easy to clear the spell form the books worn pages.

It had been relatively easy to summon the demon, despite the enormous drain taken from the surge stones Tom had filled with magic days ago.

The creature was surprisingly submissive- something Tom had never believed would describe a creature from hell, but then again, the Dark Lord had yet to ask it to do something drastic.

Arturo was a figure completely obscured by darkness that had the consistency of smoke, it didn't speak, and Tom was unsure if it even could see.

When he had reached out to touch the magnificently powerful demon, it hadn't reacted to his touch, it didn't seem surprised or disgusted, if it was anything, Arturo seemed… curious…and perhaps affectionate if the 'hand' that had tangled its 'fingers' in Toms' hair was any indication.

Even now, Arturo was demurely following him down hallways and upstairs to Tom's study, just like Tom had asked it to.

The Dark Lord entered his study, waiting for the creature to follow even as he moved to sit behind his desk.

Tom had summoned the demon for several reasons, the most important being his seizure of the Ministry, Dumbledore's death, and perhaps a way to escape death itself- a way to become immortal.

Arturo hovered in the center of the room, the demons ominous, though quiet, breathing the only disruption of what would have been silence.

Surely it could speak? Question him perhaps?

When several long minutes passed without words, Tom spoke, desperate for information, and though he attempted to contain himself, Tom found himself asking about immortality, immediately cursing himself for such Gryffindorish impulse one the words escaped him.

"Is it possible to become immortal? Truly immortal?"

The creature seemed to focus on him, and Tom could feel as if there was some type of weight added upon his form.

Tom shifted discreetly, eyeing the demon.

"I discovered the rituals required for making a Horcrux however-"

The creature cut him off with a sound half-way between a snarl and a hiss, a hiss Tom heard only as ' _No_ '.

The Slytherin Heir blinked slightly, Arturo spoke Parseltounge?

' _The way of Horcruxes are crude as well as unstable, those who have created them in the past fall to insanity._ '

Harsh and blunt words that had Tom's eyes widening. Insanity? That was one of Tom's few fears, the possibility of falling into an abyss that held only madness.

Tom huffed silently before letting his head fall back against the chairs back, eyes closed in a mixture of disgruntlement and horror.

Immortality had been taken from him in one swift blow- Horcruxes led to madness, the Philosophers Stone was presumably locked away in Gringotts, and any other methods of 'immortality' Tom had found were finite and lasted only decades after the user invoked them.

The Dark Lord only returned to awareness when he heard something thud onto the desktop, causing his eyes to snap open.

Tom found himself only a few inches away from the creatures head before it pulled back.

Blinking, Tom peered down at the open book now resting atop his workspace.

It was ' _the Tales of Beedle the Bard_ ' opened to page 87, and proudly displaying the chapter title ' _The Tale of the Three Brothers_ '.*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *The Book Burning of 1938 was sanctioned by the Ministry of Magic, it's purpose was to destroy books of forbidden magic.
> 
> *This is accurate, I own the book, thanks all to JK Rowling for writing it!


	3. I Will Not Bow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there people, hope you are all enjoying the story so far! Just a question before we move on to some good news, has anyone noticed that the chapter names are small sections of song lyrics? Well they are, I take no credit for them, Chapter I's title is courtesy of the song 'Faster' by Matt Nathanson, Chapter II's title is courtesy of Skillet's Whispers in the Dark, and Chapter III's title is courtesy of the song 'I will Not Bow' by Breaking Benjamin. Now some good news, Chapter IV, Breathing in the Chemicals (Imagine Dragon's 'Radioactive') is already in the works and should be up in about a couple of days if not tonight or tomorrow.

 

_Chapter III –I Will Not Bow_

"What is this? A children's story?"

Tom focused his gaze on Arturo, incredulously, fighting the urge to toss the slim fairy tale book at the demon only two feet away from him.

" _All Legends ring with truth, that story is the same. It is your choice to take the knowledge I have given you freely or to ignore the potential._ "

"Potential? This is a bedtime story!"

" _Do you even know the story, or are you just dismissing it due to the cover it is bound between? It is well known that stories of the far past are written down by others, the original source left forgotten._ "

"I admit that I am… unfamiliar with this book…but never-the-less is there another way?"

The creature seemed to shift slightly before pressing a 'finger' to the typed words inside of the book.

" _Know this, the names inscribed here are real, these people were alive once._ "

Tom nodded brusquely, bristling slightly when his question went unanswered before turning to the first page of ' _The Tale of Three Brothers_ '.

* * *

Arturo, for all his confusion when it came to _who_ and _what_ he was, knew many interesting things.

Such as the existence and success of the deathly hallows.

He remembered being hit with a green light, the brief flash of a train station, and then taking his next breath as his eyes opened.

Arturo recalled a snake-like figure, sneer on his face as those lights flew from it and Arturo blocking and sending more towards the creature in return.

A girl, bushy brown hair swinging around far enough to obscure her face.

A young, handsome teen smirking at him within some type of chamber, eyes flashing with a hint of red.

A red headed boy sitting across from examining a chess board.

Arturo had a whirlwind of names constantly spinning in his mind, he recalled the names Tom, Hermione, Riddle, Ron, Ginny, Neville, Malfoy, and Lestrange, more than any others, he also knew the names Dursely, Petunia, Vernon, and Dudley, all of which sent a flare of anger and disgust through his ghostly-form.

Drifting away from his humans' desk, Arturo approached the office window and took his time appreciating the view.

In amongst the trees littering the desolate backyard, there was a human child with bright green eyes, wearing clothes obviously too large for him, and as Arturo watched it, the human child ran its fingers through its black hair, its lips quirking up slightly before calling out silently. Arturo watched, even as the human seemed to become… worried, its lips returned to form a straight line even as its brow furrowed slightly before it called out again.

What was it saying?

Why did it continue to linger?

Didn't human children do…other things?

"Arturo? What is it?"

Arturo turned his head slightly in order to meet the gaze of his human, who had looked up from _'The Tales of Beadle the Bard'_.

Before Arturo could reply, his human was already moving to the window, having vacated his chair.

Turning back to look outside once more, Arturo realized that both the human child and the trees from before had vanished and now a graveyard stood in in their place.

Arturo cocked his head slightly.

Something wasn't right.

The demon raised a hand to rest it against the glass separating him from the outside world, gaze snapping towards the very same hand when he heard a sharp clinking noise just as his fingers made contact with the pane.

Skeleton like fingers contrasted sharply with the transparent material, seemingly human-like in form but for their lack of flesh and skin.

Arturo heard a sharp but almost silent intake of breath, causing him to turn towards his human, who had its red gaze focused on Arturo's new appendage.

The demon watched his human curiously before withdrawing the hand from the glass and returning it into the depths of the darkness that cloaked it.

Yes, something was very wrong.

* * *

Tom stared at Arturo's hand transfixed until it escaped his sight.

"You were you human once weren't you?! You're immortal!"

Arturo was 'gazing' at him, and after Tom's outburst, shifted slightly.

" _I don't know what or who I was, human, do not presume that being a creature such as a demon will make one as immortal as you humans seem to believe we are. Everything dies at one time or another. Often times, humans think of immortality as a gift, when they may later see it as a curse to watch everything and everyone around them wither and die while they themselves cannot. If you wish to become immortal, it is on your own head, human._ "

Tom stiffened, Arturo had no right to tell him what he could or could not do, the demon didn't understand, _couldn't understand_ , it was _immortal_ after all-

Arturo was summoned by _him, Tom Marvolo Riddle, Dark Lord Voldemort,_ the demon _should not speak to him like this!_

Tom snarled, " _You dare_ tell _me what to do and who to be?! You_ are _nothing! You mean nothing_ to _me!_ "

The creature simply seemed to sigh and turn away from him, only infuriating Tom even more, Arturo was _his._ The creature _belonged to him!_

" _The arrogance of humans, to believe that anyone else would care about who they are. Be what you will human, I do not care. I offer only advice and wisdom that I do know. You may very well end up building your own pedestal brick by brick in order to observe the people below you, but remember human, it only take one other to remove the throne you sat yourself upon._ "

Tom ignored Arturo, returning to his desk, his magic crackling around him in fury.

" _Human. Do not forget that I am capable of thought as well. I will not bow. I will not simply submit. I am not something to be controlled. I will tell you information that may or may not benefit you. However, I will not follow your orders like some disposable lackey._ "

Tom whirled around, his anger palpable in the very magic crackling angrily in the air, a curse on his tongue, only to find that the demon had vanished.

 


	4. Breathing in the Chemicals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry! I really am! I thought this would be out earlier but I got kinda stuck after the first segment of this chapter and I wasn't expecting it! Then earlier tonight my muse came back and well, this is the result! Here comes a plot twist! Onwards my readers! Oh, and this chapter is completely dedicated to my laptop, who has been named in honor of our favorite demon! Hope you all enjoy! Poor Tom's in for a shock!
> 
> The plot thickens!

_Chapter IV- Breathing in the Chemicals_

Arturo could not remember where he recalled the phrase 'I will not break and I will not bow' from, but it seemed to fit the situation with his arrogant human fairly well.

The mortal seemed to believe Arturo would follow it around like some type of lost… puppy.

What was a puppy?

Discarding the thought, Arturo continued across the front lawn towards the grave yard he had seen from the window.

It felt somewhat familiar, as though he had been there before.

The demon twisted this way and that through the headstones only to find himself in front of a grave guarded by some type of cloaked figure, holding a human weapon of some sort.

A scythe?

Arturo reached toward the monument of death, pausing to stare at where his hand was supposed to be, before it made contact with the stone.

The demon observed as shifting shadows of darkness drew towards where his hand would be, gathering to form the same skeletal hand as before.

Arturo watched the phenomenon as it occurred, interested despite himself.

Perhaps, he had been a foolish human himself at one time.

The demon raised its other hand to place atop the smooth stone surface, slightly surprised to find that no change occurred with the second hand, which still lay cloaked in shadow.

" _How curious…_ "

The demon turned, prepared to leave the presence of his humans' place of residence, only to hear a sound-

It was quiet, with a hint of worry and barely audible, in fact it only sounded like a whisper on the wind. Arturo turned his head slightly to the right then to the left, searching for the culprit, but seeing only fog. He took several more steps forward, only to hear the noise again-

Arturo shifted, but saw nothing until he looked towards one of the few trees littering the graveyard.

He can't make out the shape, but Arturo remembers those bright green eyes from before.

The demon took a step forward, intending to catch a full glimpse of the owner of those eyes only to be sorely disappointed when they vanished into thin air.

After a few moments of looking at the now vacant tree, Arturo turned to leave for the final time- realizing only then that the fog that had been present since he had entered the grave covered lawn had vanished, leaving the dead grass and weeds visible.

* * *

Tom watched the demon from the window of Riddle Manor, his hands clenched into fists as his nails bit into the skin of his palms.

Fury rolled through him, leaving his magic to crackle dangerously in the air.

The demon paused in front of the grave that housed the rotting corpse of the same filthy muggle that had abandoned the Dark Lord when he was a child.

The brunet stiffened as he spotted the demon rest its skeletal hand against the stone, causing something inside Tom to recoil.

What was Arturo doing?

What was _he_ doing?

Red eyes widened slightly before glancing down at his hands, where droplets of blood had began to slide through his fingers, preparing to spill on the floor.

Carefully, the Dark Lord unclenched his fists, slowly raising them to eye-level in order to examine them.

Why had he been so angry?

It was unlike him to become that furious, usually, when Tom became angry, he turned cold and closed himself off from others, but this, this _rage_ where had it come from?

And his magic, it had never responded so quickly to his emotions before except when-

When some of the older orphans had nearly killed him.

Red eyes stared uncomprehendingly at the red substance staining his hands, before turning his equally red gaze to the demon on the lawn.

What was happening to him?

Why now?

* * *

Arturo could feel his humans gaze focus on his form just as he turned away from the tree that had occupied his attention just a few minutes ago.

Those red eyes were wider than normal.

Arturo examined his human for a moment and several things stuck out to him like a splatter of ink on blank parchment.

His humans hands were bleeding was the first thing he noticed, following that, it was the fear and confusion in those wide red eyes set into that beautiful face that struck Arturo the most.

His human.

Something was wrong with his human, and Arturo didn't know what it was, and just by examining those fine features separated from the outside world by a single pane of glass, Arturo realized that his human didn't know what was wrong either.

So Arturo did the only thing he could think of and returned to the room his human had graced with its presence.

When Arturo arrived back in the study, he found his human still looking out at the grounds and, if he hadn't been watching the magic wielder so closely, he would have failed to notice the minute shaking on his humans' hands.

The demon approached his summoner from behind, carefully clasping the others shoulder with a skeletal hand, that Arturo distantly noticed had more bone appearing from the shadows of his cloak than normal, before he carefully turned his human around to face him.

His human was staring at its blood stained hands, confusion and terror seeming to be subtlely etched in the lines of his humans pale features.

Silently, Arturo reached out to grasp his humans' hand, pulling it closer in order to examine it.

The thin crescent shaped wounds were still bleeding slightly, and despite the length of each wound (all miniscule) all were surprisingly deep for being caused by his humans own nails.

The hand Arturo held prisoner for examination was still shaking within the demons' grasp as the human focused its gaze on him.

"Something's gone wrong…Something's wrong with me… I don't-"

Arturo waited patiently for his human to calm.

"I've only been… that angry… one time in my life… and it just… doesn't make any sense…"

It was only then that Arturo realized that the magic that was constantly present in the air around his human had been different during their argument. When his human had been irrationally furious, the magic had seemed… oily and darker than it did even now.

Confusion waged with intrigue inside Arturo.

So his human didn't normally respond to opposition like it had earlier?


	5. I've Come to Burn Your Kingdom Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm not really supposed to be doing this right now, with finals coming up and everything, but I'm not good at studying and I'm also slightly bored…So yeah, here ya go. If you're interested, I should be posting the first chapter for a new Naruto fic sometime today or tomorrow. Anyways, onwards! Does anyone actually read these things? Meh, whatever, name of the chapter was inspired by Florence + The Machine's "Seven Devils". Enjoy.
> 
> Oh, and I screwed with the time line. Again. My bad.

_Chapter V- I’ve Come to Burn Your Kingdom Down_

With the realization that came from knowing the difference in the taste of his human’s magic, Arturo found himself observing his humans magic more often than not as days went by in a flurry of activity for the young Dark Lord, who seemed to be continuously moving.  It didn’t matter if he was doing paperwork or holding a meeting with his Death Eaters, the magic around Arturo’s human continued to fluctuate in such a way that actually began to worry the demon.

His human, after his initial freak out, seemed to quickly re-orientate himself, and a few days later, seemed to have forgotten the incident completely, along with the gift of the Deathly Hallows Arturo had brought before him.

Sometimes, it seemed as though he forgot Arturo’s presence entirely.

His humans’ reaction to the incident was unnatural, to have a mental breakdown then suddenly regain footing without so much as a word…

The demon warily watched his humans’ magic saturate the air, heavy, thick and oily, disgusting to be around, and with the slowly increasing aura of his humans magic, the Dark Lords tendency to torture his followers began to increase, and it wasn’t just that.

Arturo’s human began lose his tactician mind, and while the demon hadn’t been present for long in the Dark Lords company, he could _see_ the vast difference between the tactics used just after his human’s emotional episode and now, two months later.

The problem was, no one else could see the subtle changes in the Dark Lords action since they weren’t looking for them.

And Arturo didn’t know what to do about the entire situation.

To make matters worse, the strange phenomenon with the skeleton appearance of his lone hand had completely disappeared, returning Arturo’s form to one of endless shadow, and the voice of the child was slowly beginning to rise in both volume and desperation, now the human child’s voice had risen to the level of a mumble, almost decipherable, yet it was clear the human child was beyond desperate and frustrated at this point, and about ready to give up.

The last time Arturo had heard the fey like child all the demon had been able to make out was, “ou ne- fi –m h- im” and then the boys’ voice had seemed to disappear, and what Arturo had made out made no sense either way.

And the Demon’s desperation was slowly rising as time passed by and he could do nothing but hear the muffled indecipherable whispers of the child and watch as his human, the lone figure he had attached himself to in this place, slowly fell from grace.

Arturo didn’t want to see the Dark Lord crash.

But the demon knew he couldn’t leave either, the one time he had ventured outside of the manor’s grounds late in the night in an attempt to discover where the child he was hearing was, he had come back late the next morning only to find his humans’ aura twice as dark and sickly than before he had left.

So he could only stay and watch as the fascinating human, the one that had pulled him from the darkness of before, was slowly consumed.

It would be another nine months before anything of importance would happen, aside from the damage being done to his human’s mental facilities.

* * *

It was eleven months after the summoning that Arturo came to realize that his human couldn’t even see him anymore.

In an effort to get a form of response from the dark haired male, Arturo tried everything he could think of.

Everything from touching the human to screeching in its’ ear and attempting to throw various items at the Dark Lord in question.

The human disregarded whatever chill seemed to rack his body merely as the cold, Arturo’s screeching hisses went unheard, and anything the demon attempted to pick up simply phased through his intangible form.

Unable to even touch his human, Arturo found himself completely lost and whatever hope the Demon may have had that the situation could be salvaged disappeared bit by bit after every failed attempt to achieve a response.

All the while, the volume of the child rose in volume, and then, a year after his summoning, the child’s voice suddenly reached a crescendo, transforming suddenly from whisper to scream.

“You need to help him!  Save him! Do something!  Anything!  Please god-damn you!  Fix him!  You broke him in the first place!  Act you thrice damned Demon!”

The child’s voice began to rage in his ears constantly, desperate and full of fury, cursing and pleading, echoing within the confines of Arturo’s mind without remorse.

But the Demon couldn’t find any way to get a response out of the Dark Lord, or any of his followers.

Nothing he did produced any results.

And Arturo, lost, hopeless and defeated, found himself slowly dying on the inside, and as he died on the inside, his massive, shadowy form began to shrink in size day by day, the slivers of darkness that made up his form slowly fading into nothingness.

Every moment was spent in the agony of complete devastation, emotions in chaos, and mind lost in the hopelessness of the situation.

Arturo couldn’t even find it within himself to hope for change.

But change came, and it came in the small form of two children barely 7 months old.

* * *

By the time the two young ones made an appearance, Arturo was already half the size of his original form, lingering ever closely to the Dark Lords unknowing side.

The two children were presented to the Dark Lord wrapped in black cloth reminiscent of the material that made up the Death Eater’s cloaks, laid upon the dais at the feet of the Dark Lord by followers eager to please, regardless of what the now insane man did to the young children set at his feet, and at the sight of the two children, Arturo turned away, and attempted to ignore the smothering ill earned compliments rained down on what was only a shell of his humans former glory.

However, only a few seconds after he turned away, twin screams broke the quite in the air, and despite everything telling him not to, the Demon turned to face the twins laid out like sacrifices upon the pale marble.

At that moment, as soon as Arturo’s gaze landed on the two young humans’, the cries cut off, like they had never rent the air in the first place.

The Dark Lord seemed too busy regarding the children with distaste before turning away, just as Arturo came closer to the twins, curiosity slowly enticing him forward.

Two pairs of eyes, one blue-grey, and one grey-blue watched him with the wonder that only a child could possess, two pairs of arms reaching as far as possible towards him.

Someone could see him, after years of living without contact from his human, let alone being _seen_ by him or any other for that matter, Arturo did the only thing he could, reaching for their raised hands carefully, and hoping for the first time since everything went down-hill that maybe, just maybe, he _could_ be able to do something.

And with the first brush of his shadow-like touch to the hands that reached out to him, Arturo’s form solidified, along with the Demons hope for the future.


	6. I'm On My Own Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all are enjoying your break, I know I am, and look what I'm doing to celebrate! You guessed it, I'm writing! Yays! Well Arturo ended up throwing a fit but all turns out well in the end. Our poor demon has no idea what kind of trouble he's getting himself into… Anyways, this chapter's title is inspired by All American Rejects' "It Ends Tonight". For those interested, Blood Stained Jester's next chapter will probably be out around/ on the 19th as a birthday gift to myself, as well as another chapter of Death's Servant hopefully.
> 
> Enjoy the chapter! And if this story doesn't get another update beforehand, have a Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and wonderful New Years, may your resolutions be reached and dreams come true!
> 
> …That sounded cheesy, someone smack me now. Gah.

Chapter VI- I’m On My Own Side

Arturo knew he was in a precarious position, standing at a crossroads where he could only walk down one path and never be able to change his final decision.

If he screwed up, if he made the wrong decision here and now, the demon knew that he would destroy the whole world.

The feeling was instinctual, engraved into his very senses yet unhelpful in the long run since this so called ‘sixth sense’ was not helping him in choosing the right decision.

Then again, there was the controversy of right and wrong as well.

Would the decision he made have to be the right one for him, or for the shell that used to be his summoner?  And for that matter, what about the children themselves?  Were they a salvation or a curse?

The demon hissed lowly to himself, even as he allowed the twins to play with his shadowy form.

Staying with the Dark Lord was an obvious pitfall, the insane human would only continue to decline sanity wise even with his presence, and it wasn’t like Arturo could help the Dark Lord either way being as incorporeal as he was in the man’s presence.  It didn’t help matters that over time, Arturo knew he would fade into nothingness without _someone_ seeing him.

However, when it came to the alternative, Arturo wasn’t sure if it was better than staying with his summoner.   Watching two infants grow up couldn’t be too exciting could it?

Well, at least the second option had the chance of being more interesting than following an insane man around a manor.

Tag along with the kids it was then, for better or for worse.

Le gods, it sounded like he was getting married to the brats or something.  Gah.

Where the hell had that come from?

* * *

 

Overall, Arturo wasn’t impressed with the twins’ parents.

First of all, naming the brats Rodolphus and Rabastan?  What in the nine levels of hell were the inbred idiots smoking?  Because there surely wasn’t any thinking involved what-so-ever.

The next straw was what happened to the human children when the parents arrived ‘home’ with the two brats that had clutched at Arturo’s shadow-like form and ended up dragging the poor demon along for the horrid ride.

The bastard and bitch had given the twins to these small creatures that were just a little bigger than the twins themselves, with big golf ball eyes long pointy ears and paper like skin, immediately, saying only a cursory, “You know what to do.”.

Arturo had been less than pleased.

The third strike happened within two hours of the ‘family’s’ arrival ‘home’.

It was clear that the female human was inebriated when the bitch lumbered into the twins’ room where the two boys were sleeping in a huddled mass of blankets inside of a crib.  Arturo watched her, angered at her presence in spite of himself, and already on edge with her appearance in the children’s room.

The two kids had fallen asleep only half an hour ago, after the bug-eyed creatures had spent more than an hour rocking the twins in their arms clumsily and singing to the boys with high voices that only seemed to hurt the poor brats ears.

Unknown to the small creatures, Arturo had been the one to put the two to sleep by hissing to them wordlessly and petting the small tuft of hair on either boys head.

Then the no good daughter of a whore had to walk into the room and begin screeching her head off and stomping her feet in a child-like tantrum, the feats of which not even the twins had thrown in the presence of the Dark Lord.

Arturo didn’t catch most of what the bitch said, but what he did hear lead him to believe that the woman was berating the twins for not earning her the Dark Lord’s favor or some such idiocy.

Feed-up and burning with a rage Arturo hadn’t realized he was capable of, the demon sent a huge wave of magic at the woman, attempting to only throw her from the room.

Needless to say that the demons’ emotions enhanced the magic he was wielding and sent the bitch flying through one of the walls of the twins’ room and then against the hallway wall where she fell with a loud thud.

Arturo couldn’t find himself hoping that the woman was still alive, if she was enough of a bitch to yell at her own children, twins she had carried within her womb for nine months, about something as trivial as earning the Dark Lord’s favor, then the woman had little right to live in the demons eyes.

The two boys had begun crying and screaming at the woman’s high pitched yells, eyes shut tightly and tears streaming down chubby faces as hands waved in the air desperately.

A moment later, one of the creatures appeared and began attempting to coo at the children, only making the volume of the twin’s screams raise a decibel.

The demon scowled and wordlessly strode over to the side of the children’s crib, reaching inside to pick the brats up and cradle one in each ‘arm’.  Leaving the wide-eyed creature to shriek in surprise before disappearing with a loud pop.

“ _Crying is not something you little hellions should be doing, there are much better actions to take against those that annoy, hurt or anger you._ ”

Two pairs of eyes watched the demon fixedly, with wide eyes that slowly stopped leaking droplets of salt water, even as loud cries transformed into hiccups and sniffles.

“ _How strange that you two can understand me as well as see me, despite your age and supposed low mental capacity._ ”

The demon blinked as the twin faces peering up at him seemed to take on an indignant look.

“ _You two are a strange pair of brats.  What the hell am I going to do with you hellions?_ ”

Arturo huffed despairingly, even as he stepped into the hallway, avoiding the limp mass that was the twin’s mother even as the demon headed to the staircase to reach the first floor.

The twin with the gray-blue eyes smacked the demon in annoyance, while the blue-gray eyed menace giggled somewhat viciously.

Arturo snorted at the twins in his ‘arms’.

“ _Che, when you get some muscles on those limbs you call arms and legs, we’ll talk about why you don’t hit the person carrying you ya brat.  And as for you little hellion, if something bad happens, I’m blaming you._”


	7. I'm A Renegade, It's In My Blood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here comes the dreaded time skip. What ever shall we do? Oh me, Oh my! Le Angst! Le Gasp! Alright, me thinks that's enough angsting for now, time to move on. Does anyone read these things by any chance? So I have a lot of excuses, probably everything from writers block to college issues to recount, but I don't feel like spilling my guts right now even though I have, once more, found myself typing this up when I am supposed to be studying/ doing homework. My muse sucks like that, but I can't concentrate and am tired as fuck so screw it all to hell, might as well enjoy this while I can.  
> This Author's note turned out longer than I expected. Huh. Title lyrics are from Paramour's "Renegade". Enjoy.  
> Oh, whoops sorry forgot to mention, this chapter is mostly about the twins! Ta!

_Chapter VII- I'm A Renegade, It's In My Blood_

It didn't start with a flash of light, or a bang, no loud or startling noises or visuals in fact, it only started with a younger boy that had a low tolerance for anything different than what he perceived as 'normal' and his young voice that happened to hold a tone of judgmental superiority.

"Oi, _pipsqueaks_ why don't you go play in the litter box or something? This is _my_ territory."

Everything had been fine up till the unwelcome intrusion, the two dark haired twins had simply been messing around with a handful marbles, eyeing each other almost lazily as the sun slowly passed by overhead.

Rodolphus and Rabastan, now more alert than before, but still relaxed despite the shadow of the older boy that lingered over them merely flickered their gaze upwards towards the intruder. Rabastan's blue-gray eyes flickering back to the marbles littering the ground several seconds after their initial scan of the chunky frame of the boy above him. Rodolphus's gaze, unlike his younger twins gaze, lingered a few seconds longer, gray-blue eyes narrowed in slight irritation.

"There is no name here to proclaim you the owner of this so called territory, and you do not hold a deed of ownership, leave us be and move elsewhere ingrate there is no need for your presence and we hold no desire to be around a boy that is insecure about himself and feels he must intimidate others to feel some form of self-satisfaction."

It was Rabastan that murmured the drawn out response, the tone was soft with only a hint of irritation despite its otherwise emotionless quality and his bent over form.

It seemed to take several moments for the imbecile to realize he had just been insulted- it was clear that the boy had failed to completely understand what Rabastan had said, but had realized he had been insulted.

"You little _freak_ , I bet you're using big words to try and impress me! I've seen you two! Wandering around pretending to talk to thin air! Do the kiddies need their _itty bitty imaginary friend?_ I bet you go crying to mommy and daddy every chance you get!"

Rabastan didn't even glance up, merely flicking one of the marbles closest enough to him with enough force for it to collide into one of the marbles closest to his brother.

Rodolphus rolled his eyes, "Little brother, why do you even attempt to speak with these… plebeians?"

"I like to see how much they understand of what I say, lest they understand half of it and I am compelled to actually read the dictionary in order to widen my vocabulary."

Gray-blue eyes redirected themselves to the multicolored marbles strewn throughout the blades of glass.

"15, Rabastan."

"9 actually brother, always sooner rather than later."

"Get off my turf you _brats_ or I will _make you!_ "

Both six year olds looked up from their marbles with raised eyebrows.

" _You and what army you moron?_ "

It was said in unison, two pairs of cold eyes directed at their source of annoyance almost mirror images despite the slight differences in eye color and posture.

"I don't need an army!" The older boy exclaimed before diving towards the twins, intent on teaching the twins a lesson only to find himself immobilized by Rodolphus and a dagger leveled between his eyes, held by the younger brother.

"Boys, what did I tell you before I left today? Hmmm? And Rabastan, it was unnecessary to bring that here."

Both boys turned their gazes upwards even while the boy underneath Rodolphus wriggled in an attempt to escape.

"Father, you're late."

The man above the twins waved a hand dismissively. "Counting down to the seconds again Rabastan? You realize doing so will ensure that nothing is ever exactly on time, but instead always either late or early. That was proven multiple times over the last few weeks brat. Rodolphus, I hope you actually behaved today in comparison to Rabastan."

The twins turned their gazes towards each other, cataloging and evaluating every minute twitch the other made before silently evaluating it, communicating in one of the few ways only twins could.

"Up, we have little time to waste you hellions, much work to do and bigger… well, more important fish to fry."

"Father-"

With a sigh, the adult bent down and plucked his hellions from the ground unceremoniously before dropping them gently away from their prey.

Speaking of prey, bright gold eyes focused on the fat form of the older child his sons had been tormenting.

"You know what child? It is people like you that have a tendency to annoy me, mostly because like your actions towards my sons today you prove to your peers that you think yourself a king among the ants, but keep in mind, much like what my sons did to you, others will be capable of doing the same thing. There will be rebels on every corners, enemies at every turn and misfortune under every flagstone as you walk down the path of life. Here is my piece of advice to you, you ignorant child, grow up. With you as you are, you will fail at finding true happiness, with bad luck dogging your every footstep, enemies poised with a knife at your back and rebellion everywhere you look. Shape up or there will be no one you can trust in your life."

"Father, stop preaching, or we will actually be late, and not by just seconds either, Rabastan is already twitching as well."

Blinking, amber eyes looked up from the wide-eyed child at his feet.

"Ahh, let's go then, I'm sure you wish to see him again."

The boys turned their gazes towards the man, eyes bright with excitement and only the slight twitching of their fingers there to display their rapid change of mood.

"He's back? Really?" Rabastan struggled to stop from leaping towards the man he called father, even as Rodolphus's lips twitched in an attempt to hold back a grin.

"Yes, now let us go before this droll scenery saps away what is left of my patience, I still have imbeciles to deal with, on top of my own little devils."

* * *

 

Everyone believed that Walburga Black was the true head of the Black family.

Her husband rarely seemed to appear in public, or even newspapers, but what none would be able to guess was that Orion Black was, despite not dealing with the normal head duties, the pillar of the Black family.

He also happened to be a practitioner of Evocation (the summoning of supernatural beings) atop his in depth study of the dark arts and defensive magics (both malignant and benign).

This was why no one recognized him or the two children he kept a firm grip on as they strolled down the sidewalk.

It also happened to be a large factor into why he treated the boys as he did, and despite what one could consider harsh words, his relation of both his own and surrogate sons to 'demons' and what not actually qualified as a term of endearment from the Monarch of the Ancient and Noble House of Black.

"Ahh, here we are." The amber eyed, auburn haired man proclaimed as they reached the spot between number 11 and 13 Grimauld Place.

"He came back here?" Rodolphus enquired incredulously, "He chose here when both of _them_ are running _amuck-_ "

Orion raised an eyebrow at the elder Lestrange twin, "Keep in mind that those are my sons you are speaking of."

Rabastan turned to blink up at the adult before quietly replying, "Your sons who happen to be half our age and younger, can't talk, and have a tendency to screech like banshees despite whatever Aunt Walburga does to appease them."

"Yes, well, a fine point. However, you realize my wife will still harp on both of you for referring to her as an Aunt while you call me Father."

Both twins winced.

"I think," Rabastan started, "we have spent too much time around muggle literature to be able to call her Mother." Rodolphus finished.

"Oh?" Asked Orion as he began leading the twins up the porch steps to the front door, opening it with a wave of his wand, only to come face to face with a hovering mass of black smoke that seemed to nod silently before allowing the trio inside.

Rabastan hesitated in chasing after both his twin and the floating mass of shadows, leaving his surrogate 'Father' with one last word. " _Disney._ "


	8. Say Yes to Pull the Trigger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be warned, there be evil cliff hanger ahead! This chapter’s title comes from Flyleaf’s ‘Cassie’, and the second section of this chapter might confuse a bit since it’s kind of a flashback/memory/recollection of how Arturo met Orion Black. Everything else is linear as far as I’m concerned. Hopefully you all will enjoy it! Especially since Tom wanted to drop in and say hello. Dark Lords, can’t live with ‘em can’t live without ‘em, even if they are insane.

_Chapter VIII- Say Yes to Pull the Trigger_

In the rare moments he was lucid, he was able to recognize that something was horribly wrong.

At first, he thought it was simply something to do with his wand, then he became concerned with his magic which seemed to nearly impossible to direct intentionally.

Now, now he knew that there wasn’t something wrong with just his magic, there was something completely wrong with _him._

He couldn’t do anything about it, sense came to him very rarely, and as far as he could tell, it came only once every two weeks but the time period between lucidity and madness grew frightfully longer, expanding from once every two weeks to once every month, then every other month, and now it took years for him to have a moment he was able to think clearly.

Occasionally, while laying deep within the confines of his mind, he wondered why he was attempting to stay sane even now.

There was no one waiting for him, nothing to go back for, by now everything he had strove for during his lifetime was in shambles, and then there was the fact that no one seemed to even notice or care about what was happening to him- not even his closest followers.

Then again, if he remembered correctly, he had summoned a demon at some point.

Why though? It’s not like he needed one for anything. He had all the power he-

No. He couldn’t think like that. He knew he’d summoned the demon. Why didn’t really matter.

If- If he remembered correctly, calling a demon by its true name would summon them right?

What was the demons name?

What was it?

He couldn’t-

Why couldn’t he remember it?

* * *

 

It had been five years since his run in with Orion Black, Lord of the Ancient and Noble House of Black.

Five years that he had spent watching his darling little deviants grow into little hellions with a penchant for long words, violence and various odd quirks.

Arturo had almost literally run into the head of the Black family while traversing Britain’s Diagonally, a little less than five years ago, completely focused on the muggle he was practically strangling with the amount of magic the demon had swamped on her thin shoulders.

The purpose of the muggle woman had solely been to ensure the happiness of his brats, who, Arturo had imagined at the time, would at least enjoy some sunlight (walking around in public holding two children while being practically invisible was _not_ something the demon had desired to do).

Of course, being both invisible and intangible for such a long period of time had its drawbacks, mainly that the demon failed to notice the man who was actually watching him and was about to collide with him.

Luckily enough, Orion (whose name he had not known at the time), had carefully sidestepped him, merely brushing a hand against the wisps of shadow that would be where Arturo’s upper arm would have been had the demon been solid.

Immediately, both demon and the possessed muggle woman stopped moving, Arturo turning his head to gaze at the back of the man’s robe before Orion had turned around to smirk at him.

What had followed was an unexpected meeting between a wizard from family that had partitioned in the Dark Arts so frequently and in such massive quantities that the house he had grown up in was saturated to the point that he was able to see Arturo, and had had no problem announcing it, and a demon who had never expected to meet someone besides his twins that would actually be able to interact with him.

Of course, the situation became even more confusing when the Dark Wizard had offered his home to the demon and his hellions.

Arturo warily agreed, only able to answer through the use of his possessed muggle.

That had been how the four had met, a random run-in during a random day in the middle of diagonally which had been bustling with a large amount of witches and wizards going about their own business.

At first, Arturo had thought that he would regret allowing the Black Lord so close to his twins.

Now, it was perhaps the last action he regretted doing.

What he regretted most was not being able to take care of his summoner.

* * *

 

“Disney? _That_ was their explanation for not calling me _mother?_ Infernal muggle story tales!”

“Walburga dear, there’s no need to get so hostile.”

“And you!” the slightly overweight woman whirled around to face the creature that had just entered the room.

Arturo felt the rippling fury of the witch’s magic and immediately turned to retreat.

“No you don’t! What is this Disney rot you’re stuffing into their ears huh?!”

The demon blanched, twisting its head back and forth from Walburga to Orion before giving a confused shrug.

“Well?!”

“ _What is she talking about?_ ”

“Honey, you won’t-”

“Where did they-”

“Is there a reason you’re blocking the doorway dad?” Rodolphus blinked up at the demon who seemed to twisting its body back and forth, torn between escape and trying to figure out why he was being yelled at.

Immediately turning to look down at the six year old, Arturo hesitated for only a moment before scooping the boy off the floor and into his arms.

“ _Walburga seems to think I have some idea as to what a ‘Disney’ is, and thinks I introduced you and Rabastan to it._ ”

“Oh, Disney’s a muggle franchise, they tend to well sell stories and merchandise about Princesses and fairy-tales that always end with some type of ‘happily ever after’.”

Walburga, along with all the other adults in the room seemed to take a moment to process that before the witch of the house spoke.

“And what, prey-tell does this have to do with you and your brother refusing to call me mother?”

“Well… The antagonist of the stories tends to almost always be the evil stepmother, and we know you’re not evil but we can’t bring ourselves to call you mom because the stories kinda ruined the title and we think you deserve better than that and- well- umm- Rabastan might be able to explain it better but-”

Orion was in the corner of the kitchen, hand covering his mouth in order to hide his smile while Arturo’s form seemed to be shaking with silent laughter as Walburga promptly stepped forward to claim her son-in-all-but-blood and attempt to smother him with a hug.

Rabastan poked his head through the kitchen door mouth opening to ask if his brother had gotten their snacks only to see the witch of the house practically smothering his older sibling.

So he did what any other sensible boy would do and immediately turned tail and booked it upstairs with a faint “Rabastan! You traitor!” echoing at his heels.

* * *

 

The madness of life in Number Twelve Grimuald Place never did settle down, and that was probably what made it a better home for the four young purebloods living under its roof.

But the chaotic and fun lifestyle the Black family hid behind firmly closed doors wasn’t just due to the Lestrange twins, who enjoyed both learning as well as wreaking havoc within the house and on their family members, or the playfulness of one Orion Black.

In fact, the atmosphere of the hidden home only became as chaotic as it did because of an event that happened shortly after the twins eighth birthday.

Arturo managed to acquire a body.


	9. Show Me Where Forever Dies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, here we go, sorry it’s so late, god it’s almost been a year! What is wrong with me! Gahh, I hate writers block! I hate it! I hate it! Ugh. Please don’t kill me guys, I know it’s been forever and that I’m a horrible person, but I really didn’t have the muse for the last half of this chapter until tonight (this morning really, it’s like 4:00 AM over here), but I knew that if I didn’t sit down and write it that my muse would have run away and hide. Again. It’s been a really long time so I thought I’d post this chapter tonight, enjoy.
> 
> The chapter titles seem to just keep getting longer… Anyways, this title comes from Breaking Benjamin’s ‘I Will Not Bow’, again. I thought it fitting, so there you go.
> 
> Oh, and if you guys have any questions, want to pester me about what I’m reading, writing or even doing, I’m on Tumblr under the user name: ciel-leon.

_Chapter IX- Show Me Where Forever Dies_

 Arturo absolutely adored his little demons, there was no question about it, but sometimes, sometimes he just needed to _escape_. Sometimes he just needed to get out of Number 12 and take a long walk around the muggle neighborhood, breathe in the evening air, and allow himself to sink his senses into the depth of magic that rolled up and down the street from the various amount of hidden Wizarding homes and shops.

The demon went on his walks fairly often, enough to where they had become routine and if he didn’t get his bi-weekly adventure out of the house, Arturo would find himself becoming oddly moody. In retrospect, his inability to sleep may have been part of the problem, hence why his walks occurred late into the night until the first rays of dawn erupted across the sky.

It wasn’t rare for the demon to even catch sight of some questionable acts performed by muggle and Magical folk alike, but it was rare for him to actually stop to observe the innate stupidity that followed the majority of the human race like a plague.

Sometimes, he really wished he had been able to stay with his summoner longer than he had been able to- Arturo had come to believe that his wizard had been one of the most brilliant minds of the human race, but the wizards’ sanity had degraded so quickly Arturo hadn’t been able to find out.

It was on one of his walks that he encountered a heavily injured dark wizard futilely attempting to fend off a gang of muggles without magic.

The dark coloring of the man’s hair contrasted sharply with his pale, blood stained skin, and the man’s eyes- so much like those set into the faces of his twins- lit something within the demons being- something hot yet cold, that set his whole being quivering with something-like anger (an emotion he had not felt since his summoning).

The blast of pure magic that blew the muggles into the walls of the alley was an unconscious action due to Arturo’s new-found anger, causing his magic to become slightly unstable in response to his emotions.

The demon knew he was too late to save the man’s life, it was evident in the amount of blood staining the cement of the alleyway, yet, Arturo hadn’t wanted the man to spend his last moments being beaten by muggles in the middle of a dingy alley when he could prevent such a painful passing.

Smoothly gliding to the form of the dying wizard, Arturo carefully laid a hand upon the man’s forehead, watching the man’s eyes attentively as they widened in brief recognition.

“ _Demon._ ” The man breathily spoke, struggling to keep his eyes open and falling into a fit of coughing due to the chest wound he had clearly obtained from one of the foolish muggle’s knives.

“I-I have failed to- to- do anything of- of worth- I-in m-my life-time, please,- for your kindness- t-take my body- m-may it serve you an-and your-your pur-pose…”

Arturo stiffened slightly, before kneeling down in order to watch the swirling mass of the wizard’s magic as it suddenly latched itself onto him, and before he could make a sound, Arturo found his surroundings shifting and blurring into a cyclone of colors and then, everything stilled as he found himself on his back staring upwards towards the brightening sky.

“What-?”

The demon carefully picked himself of the ground, finding his body sore for some inexplicable reason and on top of that, there was this warm, heavy pulsating feeling coming from the left side of his chest. It was almost painful and he could hear a slightly irregular rhythm that seemed to correspond with the pulsating thing within his left breast. After several minutes of contemplation, he found he was unable to determine what sort of human aliment had claimed him (whatever it was, this… _thing_ did not fit into any of the symptoms his twins had displayed when they had been ill.).

Blinking, Arturo shook his head, only to freeze upon noticing several things at once.

Dark brown- almost black hair danced around the edge of his vision, he could feel the slightly child wind brushing against his face, parts of his body felt overly stiff an unwieldy, and his movements seemed slightly inhibited by something.

Hesitantly, Arturo turned his gaze downwards.

Wizarding clothing, shoes, and the dark pavement of the alleyway.

Arturo swayed slightly at the implications, the overwhelming feeling of muscle contractions, blood roaring in his ears, the slight breeze he could feel upon his skin, and the smell of the city nearly overwhelmed him.

_This_ was what he had been missing?

The demon staggered slightly in order to reach the alley wall for support, carefully attempting to reach forward with his magic for aid only to find that the ball of warmth in the center of his chest reacted slightly quicker than the magic saturating the air as it spread through his veins with some sort of eerie determination.

A quiet sound of surprise escaped him as he suddenly found that the bone-deep ache he had found himself waking to eased, some of it disappearing altogether, allowing him to stand without feeling as though he would fall any second.

With a deep breath, Arturo staggered forwards and began his journey back home.

It would be a long and tiring walk, and the greeting he would receive would be… unpleasant at best.

* * *

What ensues as soon as he walks in the door of Grimuald Place seems to be the re-enactment of a vicious mother bear protecting her cubs and an equally, if not more furious father bear launching itself at Arturo in attempt to maul him.

Walburga is screeching spells and there are paintings, vases and plaster practically attempting to bury both Arturo and Orion as the two males roll across the floor in a tangle of limbs.

Orion isn’t even attempting to cast any magic, his wand lays abandoned on the sitting room table and he’s using all of the muscle and energy in his body to break bone. It doesn’t seem to matter whether its fist, foot or teeth that he’s using to get at any piece of flesh that this intruder reveals.

Arturo is overwhelmed. He’s attempting to keep Orion from doing a lot of damage, but at the same time something, a vase he will remember later on, had managed to collide with his head near the beginning of the brawl taking place in on the living room carpet. His body, just acquired a few hours ago is strange and almost alien, restrictive in ways his semi-invisible and semi-intangible form hadn’t previously been and more fragile by far. However, Arturo is struggling between ache originating from his temple, the seemingly insurmountable weight of Orion’s furious form on top of him and the agony wracking his new body from the wounds that Orion had already managed to inflict.

A particularly strong punch to the jaw causes Arturo’s head to snap backwards and the back of his skull collides with the floor harshly enough that the magic within his new body reacts violently, crashing forward in the form of a shock-wave that sends Orion half-way across the room and knocks Walburga, and the two children behind her to the floor.

Arturo is left on the floor of the living room trying to push air into unfamiliar lungs as he attempts to focus his gaze on the ceiling while barely managing to ignore the black lingering on the edges of his vision.

His chest heaves with the amount of effort necessary for him to remain conscious and he distantly hears the thunder of running footsteps coming from the stairway even as a shout of “Father!” rings through the air.

It’s the last thing he hears before he finally loses consciousness.

* * *

Rodolphus comes skidding into the living room, dressed in his pajamas, Rabastan nearly colliding into him as he struggles to find his footing.

Orion, his wife, and their sons are picking themselves of the floor, even as the twins immediately focus on the form of the stranger lying unconscious in the middle of the room.

The twins are beside the still form in an instant, carefully cataloging injuries as Orion limps over with a confused expression.

“Father?” He asks incredulously. Rabastan is the one who turns away from the prone figure long enough to glare at the head of the Black household.

“Seriously! Couldn’t you guys tell? It’s fathers’ magic!” With a furious huff, Rabastan turns to look at his brother, whose eyes dart towards the kitchen, and not a moment later Rabastan has breezed past their adopted mother and into the kitchen. A minute passes before Rabastan returns with a potions kit, the contents of which contains a wide variety of potions, each vial meticulously labeled and carefully stored.

It takes the rest of the Black family several minutes to react before Walburga is hurriedly urging Sirius and Regulus out of the room and towards the stairs while Orion goes for his wand, guilt and determination in equal measure written across his face even as he gently pushes Rodolphus aside and begins casting healing spells.

Rabastan gets off of the floor not long afterwards, having force-fed Arturo the last of the few potions he’d known his father would need.

“Well, what a wonderful birthday present this is.” Rodolphus remarks drily even as his twin releases an irritated huff before smacking him in the back of the head.


End file.
